


Something In The Water

by Aerosheep



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Bondage, For no reason whatsoever, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mostly Jungle smut, Orgasm Denial, Poisoning, Rimming, kind of crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerosheep/pseuds/Aerosheep
Summary: Mid-chase, fugitive Jean Valjean is forced to land his ship on an unknown planet.  Space cop Javert is close on his tail.  Little do they know that the water in this world is not your standard H2O.Warnings: drugged sex, rough sex, pew-pew lasers
Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean
Kudos: 30





	1. Unchartered Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Les Misérables 
> 
> They may be from outer space but they still need water and oxygen, go with me on this…

Valjean pressed the throttle of his ship forwards as far as it would go; a small fleet of police ships were on his tail, forming an intimidating line behind him. There was no way he could turn around now. He could only twist his sleek ship violently from side to side and up and down, dodging the the multitude of laser beams that zipped past him and narrowly missed the cockpit, but seared the edges of his tiny ship. 

His ship beeped at him for low fuel and he cursed under his breath. He had spare fuel on board tucked away in some little cubby-hole, but he couldn't very well change it mid-flight. He was gonna be forced to land. Looking around, he locates the closest planet in sight, and checks that his radar had picked it up too. It has, but his ship only recognises the presence of the planet; the information database comes up completely blank. It doesn't come as much of a surprise; they’re in uncharted space territory now. So, this was what his life was reduced to now: being wanted by the intergalactic police and and risking his hide fuelling on strange planets. Still, beggars can’t be choosers. 

He swoops his ship down to race towards the planet. It was small, no bigger than the little planet 'M-S-M' which he once used to preside over, and yet, he’d never seen a planet of such a vibrant shade of pink. He checked his oxygen levels, yes, they would last him another couple of days, as long as he was quick to change fuel, he might just yet be ok. 

He dipped into the planet’s atmosphere, and could barely see because the air was so thick with pink mist. He checked his readings: no dangerous toxins detected, and oxygen levels were pretty high actually. He wondered why this planet had not been colonised already. His ship began to shudder in the air, bobbing up and down uncertainly as the 'low-fuel' sign flashed rapidly. Best to land soon to avoid a crash landing. He lowered his altitude carefully, the mist still obscuring his view of the ground, and when he finally sunk below the clouds, his eyes widened at the spectacle below. 

He had never seen a world so colourful! The ground was completely covered in lush, green jungle. Trees of all shades of green springing up playfully into the sky. Waterfalls, loads of them, glistening blue and coughing up big puffs of white froth before trickling off into winding rivers. As Valjean hovered nearer and nearer to the canopy of trees, he could see the fruit too, decorating the branches in all different sizes and colours, some seemed as big as his head.

If there was one advantage to having such a small ship, it was the ability now to duck down in-between the trees, twisting and turning with impressive agility to avoid the maze of trunks, vines and branches. He brought the ship down as low as possible, until the bottom metal scraped against the floor, and he winced at the new, long scratch marks which would surely be forming. Well, it was in need of another paint job anyway. He cut the power completely, and pulled the breaks. 

The ship kept sliding, undeterred. He yanked harder on the breaks. It made no difference; the ship kept skidding forward. He could only thank the stars that the trees were starting to thin out as even at this slow speed, it would do no good to smack straight into wood. Valjean’s heart started thundering as he noticed his ship was sliding directly towards a river. Soon, the sound of splashing replaced the scrape of metal, and great waves of water kicked up angrily on both sides of his ship. He wondered if he should have jumped out whilst he had the time.

No sooner had he thought that, however, than the front of his ship suddenly nose dived into the river bed, and his whole body lurched forward, his head snapping back from whiplash, with the sudden halt. He sat panting in his seat for a while, listening to the water lap at the ship. The whole craft was tilted forwards at a precarious angle, as if some giant had pinched its tip between his great, fat fingers.

Why must escape always come with such repercussions? Luckily for him, the only way into and out of the ship was through an overhead door. At least his ship wouldn’t be flooded then. He pushed out of the craft, torso sticking out as he surveyed his surroundings. The place really was very beautiful, and now that he had the hatch open, he could hear everything too. Hooting, screeching, squawking, grumbling, growling, rustling, croaking… this place was inhabited all right. He felt for his handheld laser at his thigh, it wasn’t hugely powerful, but it might save him from becoming something’s food. 

He took a moment to breath in deep gulps of air. Nope, no pain, no choking, he should be fine. He looked around again at the great abundance of fruit and water, and listened to the colourful calls of the native creatures. You never know, maybe he could even live here…

But first, he better unstick his ship. Valjean had no idea how far into the sediment the craft had plunged; he hoped it wasn’t completely lodged. He swung his legs out from the cockpit, and slid down legs first into the river. It came up to his chest. He ducked under-water to feel around the ship's nose then began, with his hands, to slowly dig away at the sand. It was a slow process, for the river’s current kept washing sand back to replace whatever Valjean painstakingly removed. And even after this task, there was the problem of how to get his ship back onto land. He couldn't very well take off in water. 

Valjean sighed. Damn his flimsy, low-budget ship. And more so than that, damn the police. 

…

Damn that convict. Javert grit his teeth, infuriated that yet again, he was the only officer of the Intergalactic Police with the guts and resolution to follow Jean Valjean to the ends of this universe.

They had been so close this time. The fugitive had been outnumbered 10 to 1. And then, Valjean’s tiny ship had swerved off-course and sped towards a pinkish-looking planet. ‘Follow him!’ Javert had ordered through the ship's coms. But his colleagues had hesitated.  
‘But Commander,’ came a nervous voice through his ear piece, ‘he’s entered the zone of an un-chartered planet, it’s against protocol to follow there!’

And there it was: the most idiotic rule of Intergalactic law, the only rule he had qualms with. 

Javert swung his ship downwards after the criminal, whilst his fleet hung back. Had they no courage? Had they no commitment? So what if the planet was unmapped, if they had their lasers and their wits about them, that should be enough, and if it wasn’t, Javert would be proud to die in the line of service. Although, perhaps if it would wait until after he caught Jean Valjean. 

As his coms start to crackle with the strain of the distance, Javert gave one last, bitter order to his reluctant fleet.  
‘Go back to base then, I will shoot the criminal’s ship down and catch him myself!’  
He didn’t hear his men’s replies, before the intercom crackled out into silence. It was better that way, Javert thought, now there would be nothing to distract him.

He plunges into the unknown planet’s atmosphere, the pink air enveloping his ship. He turned on his radar, scanning for the presence of another craft. Beep beep beep! Ah-ha!, Javert grinned uncontrollably and sunk down further towards the ground, speeding towards Valjean’s location. As he loomed closer, he saw what could only be described as a rainbow rainforest. He snorted. What kind of nonsense landscape was this? It was almost gratuitously colourful. Like a child had done a paint-by-numbers but on their own illogical terms.

He spotted a hunk of metal glinting from the side of a river bank, half-in and half-out of the water. It looked like Valjean had crashed into the river. His craft was deathly silent as he hovered above the forest canopy. It’s reflective surface submerged it into its surroundings, to the point of near invisibility. 

Still, he couldn’t land right beside Valjean on the riverbank, and risk alerting the convict to his presence. Javert's radar detected ships, not living beings, and he did not want to have to go traipsing across an entire jungle-covered planet to hunt the man down on foot. And so Javert flew further upstream the river and landed on the river bank about half a mile away from Valjean. He carefully eyed the readings for the planet’s atmosphere. There was more than sufficient levels of oxygen, no toxins. Without further hesitation, Javert hopped out of his spacecraft.

He crept along the edges of the jungle, laser gun firmly clasped in his hands. He’d only taken just a few steps, when the sight of the flowing crystal clear river made him aware of how dry his mouth was. He had run out of water several hours ago during his pursuit of Valjean, and who knows how many more hours it would be until he could drink again. Javert knelt by the water’s edge, stooping down to sniff and peer closely at it. Everything about it screamed that it was perfectly normal, drinkable water. The worst case scenario was that some creature might have bathed or shat in it further upstream. 

With that in mind, he cupped his hands and drank his fill from the river. The pure liquid soothed his parched mouth and cracked throat, settling cooly in the pit of his stomach. Now with his basic needs satisfied, Javert continued his stalk. 

As has was walking, he felt his feet begin to drag a little behind him, as if he was trudging through custard. He glared at his feet and urged them to move properly, now wasn’t the time for pins and needles. As he looked back up, the horizon tilted precariously and Javert groaned; maybe he should have eaten more before leaving. The Commander swore under his breath when his laser almost slipped from between clammy hands. It was just the adrenaline, Javert assured himself, although, he’d never felt so effected by it as he was in this moment. 

He reflected no further on his body, however, as the another ship came into view, and with it, Jean Valjean. 

Valjean: Javert squinted at the bulky figure, who was pushing with all his outrageous strength to get his ship up onto the river bank. Javert could see long skid marks gouged out into the muddy bank, which then led into the forest. Had Valjean’s ship slid all that way into the river?

And now it seemed there had been no choice but for the convict to set his ship back onto dry land. Javert looked at Valjean’s straining muscles and felt an answering ache in his own arms. That ship was nothing impressive: an un-laser-proofed and lightweight little craft. But it was still a ship, and so the thought of heaving against all that metal…

Javert snapped back into focus as Valjean’s ship finally rocked forward and rested securely on the river bank. He needed to act right now. He would never live it down if he let Valjean slip away again, because he was too busy gaping at the criminal’s muscles. He sprung out into the open with his laser raised…

…

There was something in the water, Valjean had realised. And it wasn’t a creature. 

It was just as he had managed to dislodge his ship from the sand, that he had noticed his skin was tingling all over. It was somewhere unpleasantly between an itch and a tickle. Valjean frowned. He had checked the atmosphere already, surely his reader wasn’t faulty. Had he been bitten by something? No - the tingling was everywhere, with no apparent source. Valjean looked around, and then the penny dropped. 

The water. He had been repeatedly submerging himself in the river, and he still stood in it now. Panic flew through him: things that looked harmless, but weren’t, in his experience, were always all the more harmful for it. 

He remembered a piece of kit he had tucked away in his ship. A reader for solid and liquid substances. He was a fool for not using it before. He retrieved the small gun immediately, pointed it at the river, and shot. A green sheet of light scanned the surface. The gun beeped its results. Hydrogen, yes; Oxygen, yes; plenty of substances he recognised as dirt; faeces, gross but ok; but then… what in the universe was ‘that’?

Valjean stared at the foreign figures fearfully; something odd was definitely in the water. It could be deadly to him, but hopefully, it would turn out to be just an irritant. He weighed up his options. He could get out of the water now and avoid further contact, but then he would surely be stranded with no craft, and the longer he was stranded, the longer he went without medical treatment. He had to get his ship out of the water. 

He started shoving with all his might. The ship was incredibly heavy, exacerbated by the friction with the sand and the river’s water resistance, but he still managed to nudge the ship closer to the bank inch by painstaking inch. Maybe, Valjean thought with some humour, the chemical would end up being sweated out via his exertion. 

Valjean nearly cried with relief once the ship finally rested on dry land. Until he heard several quick footsteps and—

‘24601! You are under arrest by the law of the Intergalactic Police! Stay where you are!’

His joy was squashed under the heavy, black police-issued boots of Commander Javert. Of course it was Javert. Who else would be insane enough to follow him onto an unknown planet? He made to step out onto the bank, to at least get out of the water, when Javert jerked his laser towards him threateningly.  
‘Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!’

The commander advanced towards him, sloshing into the river and Valjean cringed.  
‘No! Don’t step in the water! It’s—’  
‘What? Do you take me for an imbecile!?’  
‘Please, I’m begging you, you need to get out—’  
‘It’s too late to beg now 24601, you’ve been running free for far too long.’

Then Javert loomed close with a pair of handcuffs, and Valjean made his move. He launched himself towards the taller man, tackling him into his arms and sweeping his legs out from underneath. Javert nearly shrieked, and immediately began thrashing (rather weakly for how enraged he appeared) in his vice-like grip. Valjean ignored the sharp jabs and kicks just long enough to leap onto the bank, and deposited Javert onto the floor. 

‘The water—’  
Javert snarled, and yanked the fugitive to the ground in fury,  
‘The water is—’  
Valjean felt the sickening click of handcuffs around his wrists,  
‘The water is poisonous’ he finally panted out, nearly eating the mud as he said the words. 

Stillness above him. He rolled over onto his back, and glanced over Javert. The man looked sick. It wasn’t chilly at all, but his limbs were shivering uncontrollably, and his face was pale and growing shinier with sweat by the second. What was most bizarre, however, was the notable tenting of the Commander’s pants. 

Valjean followed Javert’s equally stricken gaze, and was startled to see that his own groin had stirred to life too. The man above him swayed on his knees. 

‘…The water…is what…?’


	2. The Water Is Poisonous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only gonna be a oneshot D:

‘It’s poisonous’, Valjean finished for him, expression tired and worn.  
‘You’re lying’ he bit out. 

The convict had to be lying, didn’t he? This was all just a ploy to spook him, so that he could slip away again, wasn’t it?  
The growing tremble in his abdomen said otherwise... 

‘Where’s your proof?’

Valjean jerked his head towards his ship,  
‘I have a substance reader in my ship.’

Javert moved on unsteady legs and, keeping his laser trained on Valjean, grabbed the reader from the craft. He shot the water. The results that came back to him made bile swell up in his throat. He thought of the chemical swishing around in his stomach and felt deeply queasy.

‘What is that?’ he asked, bewildered.

He shot the river over and over again, willing the results to come back differently, and yet, each time, that mysterious substance continued to blink out from the reader tormentingly. If only he had some way of checking if the stuff was lethal. A new feeling started to swamp his body: …heat. It oozed like syrup through his veins, like his skin was being peeled back so that every fibre of his being could be exposed to the blistering rays of a star.

He heard rustling behind him. He span around from the river, nearly toppling over from lightheadedness in the process, and blearily saw the figure of Valjean disappear into the green jungle. Rage clawed past his nausea. 

He tore after Valjean, and promptly fell flat on his face. He groaned into the mud and crawled forwards on his hands and knees instead. He finally dragged himself to the edge of the trees, nearly whooping for joy, before realising he still needed to get through the jungle. The ground turned to dry soil underneath his hands, making the journey even harder without the slippery aid of the mud, and bits of twig and stone dug painfully into his tender palms. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, his breathing was laboured, sweat had drenched his hair completely, his limbs vibrated more than they moved forward, and his groin pressed unbearably hard against his trouser legs. Why, oh why, was every part of his body virtually incapacitated, except for the one area which he really didn’t need to use right now? Doesn’t his blood know it’s needed elsewhere?

He was nearly about to admit defeat, when just a few paces ahead of him, he saw Valjean slumped over a fallen tree trunk, legs spasming uselessly, trying to lift himself off his stomach. Javert wriggled forwards desperately on the floor, he was so close, so close…

He collapsed completely, slurring out a million different curses, and stared at Valjean’s shivering form despairingly.

And wasn’t this just delicious irony, Javert thought bitterly; he would perish here in this rainbow hell, with Jean Valjean just an arm’s length out of reach. His current predicament wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind, when he said he’d be glad to die in service.

…

In retrospect, it was a senseless idea to try and run away; firstly, he was going in the opposite direction to his ship, secondly, there was likely no other way of getting off this planet without it, and thirdly, he was still wearing the damned handcuffs. Valjean didn’t exactly have his ‘senses’ about him though, so he supposed he could forgive himself the inanity. 

The colourful curses behind him told him that his pursuer was in no better state. But why? Javert hadn’t been in the water for more than 10 seconds. He slid backwards off the log and landed in a heap on the dirty floor, before shuffling himself around with great effort to face the Commander, and asked his question out loud.

Javert grimaced into the ground. The man looked close to melting into a puddle of goo right there. And then twisted his features into something which looked like embarrassment, but Valjean couldn’t quite tell through Javert’s already flushed complexion.

‘I…drank some.’

Valjean’s eyes widened, and his own stomach rolled in empathy with how awfully Javert must be faring. If he felt paraplegic having just been surrounded by the river, he didn’t want to imagine what drinking the stuff would do. Valjean recoiled then at the idea that he might be forced to watch a man die in front of him. But what could he do?

They needed help, urgently. 

His ship... if he could just get them both to his ship…he would need to change the fuel first, but then…. It wouldn’t work: his cockpit was entirely too small, he himself had to hunch a little to fly it, so the idea of two bodies in there was preposterous. But what about Javert’s ship? The police crafts were much bigger…

‘Javert’ he wheezed out. The commander only grunted, having now curled up into a pitiful ball.  
‘How far’s your ship?’  
‘Nnggg, too far…half…half ‘mile.’

Half a mile. Valjean almost vomited at the prospect of walking 3 steps let alone half a mile. He dropped his head back against the log, and squinted up at the pink sky, but Javert was choking out more words.

‘How…how would we even…ah…fly ’t…you mmoron?’

A fair point. He hadn’t got that far. Trust Javert to crush all hopes. 

The man in question had gone as silent as space, and Valjean’s heart sped up alarmingly.

‘Javert!’

No reply. No movement, even. Of course the man’s last words would be an insult. Valjean lurched forward onto his knees, and very nearly smacked his face into the floor without his hands to steady him. Then he started scooting slowly over to the still body, praying it still had life.

He kneeled, panting over Javert, and head-butted the Commander in the side until he uncurled and rolled onto his back. His pallid face looked to be coated in slime with the amount of sweat there was. With monumental effort, Valjean swung one knee over Javert’s torso to straddle him and bent his face down close to the other man. He couldn’t very well perform chest compressions with his hands tied (he wasn’t sure he had the strength left for that anyway), but he did know one other method of resuscitation…

He clumsily slammed his lips upon Javert’s, and breathed out as forcefully as possible. He reared back up, sucked in more air, and repeated the action. He did so again and again, until, finally, Javert’s eyes sprung wide open, and his chest rose sharply with inflation as he gasped for precious air.

Valjean flopped his head into Javert’s neck, exhausted beyond words, and the Commander was too busy breathing to push him off.

They had lain there for several minutes, chests heaving, when Valjean noticed that his nausea was ebbing, and his limbs regaining an easier mobility. The body shifting below him told him that Javert seemed to be improving too. He wanted to laugh with delight; he’d had visions of being sick for days!

It was most odd, but in the places where his and Javert’s bodies touched, Valjean felt the painful tingling of his skin be soothed away into a cosy warmth. He stretched out his legs to cover Javert’s and found that the phenomenon persisted. He continued to plaster himself closer and closer to the other man's skin, chasing after the unplaceable satisfaction it brought, and was only vaguely aware of how ridiculous they must appear. And then, Javert shifted his hips, and both parties suddenly remembered the one particularly strange side effect of their poisoning…


	3. An Itch Must Be Scratched

He had awoken, seemingly from the edge of death, into foggy confusion. That, and to Jean Valjean wriggling on top of him like he was trying to climb inside his skin. He shifted uncomfortably. 

A mistake; his cock, still bafflingly hard, pressed imploringly against Valjean’s hip. And in return, he felt the hot harness of the convict’s own cock, digging into his pelvis. With new-found strength, Javert shoved the body off him, outraged by their closeness and entirely distrustful of how it happened. 

Valjean let out a disgruntled oof and frowned, as if it was his right to be spread over Javert like a blanket. Javert scowled, his annoyance at the mess of the situation he was in was returning to him, now that his senses were recovering. The jungle was no longer a spinning blur of green and his brains no longer felt like they had turned to rock inside his skull. He still felt feverish, but not sickeningly so. In fact, his only true remaining discomfort, was a strange itch underneath his skin. Or was that a new symptom? He supposed it didn’t matter as long as it didn’t get worse.

The bout of fever had left him feeling empty, drained, and in need of something to…to…ah. His dick was still straining pathetically under his resentful gaze. So, the poison was saving it’s best effect for last, he thought, how lovely of it. The itch was morphing into a craving sensation, its source now clearly locatable in his groin. What had he done to deserve such humiliation?

He glanced over to where Valjean still lay panting and immobile on his back, bulky arms pulled taut behind him, head tilted back against the dirt, the skin of his throat bared enticingly. The fugitive’s own groin was just as hard as his own, and it stuck out obscenely from the flatness of the man’s abs and thighs. A wave of heat swept through him, unmistakably lust. He couldn’t look away from the other man.

His cock was painfully hard now, every fibre of him was urging him to go to Valjean, to touch his skin, to give himself the relief that he just knew could be pulled from the other’s body. Valjean stared right back at him, hunger clouding his eyes like a haunting. Javert trembled where he sat, his energy returning in nervous jumps and jitters, but he refused to let himself give in to this monstrosity of a chemical.

One of his hands whipped out beside him to grip a tree branch, and the bark snapping after just a few seconds under Javert’s unforgiving grasp. He will not be debased like this; he is a commander of the Intergalactic police damn it. He had survived through more trying times than this, and he had always managed to pull himself back from the edge of death with his dignity intact. Today would be no different.

And then Valjean whimpers for his attention and Javert shudders, already forgetting half of his resolve. Valjean’s legs spread apart in a blatant invitation, the convict's piecing eyes riddled with pleas, promises and pining. The Commander thinks he might be quicker than the beams from his laser gun, as he darts over to hastily straddle his enemy. 

Valjean cants his hip up eagerly and they both grunt as their clothed cocks knock together clumsily. Javert feels his trembling become tinted with the ripples of excitement. He curls his hands into the dirt on either side of Valjean’s head, anticipating the inevitable pleasure that’s soon to come. Valjean surges upwards, abs tensing firmly, and slams his lips into Javert’s furiously, before they both flop back down to the ground and the Commander spreads himself fully over the other man in a reverse image of their former position.

He cannot be still. He wants every inch of the body below him, wants to mark and be marked. He wants to move his mouth and kiss all over Valjean, ripping clothes away as he goes, but then Valjean forces his mouth open with his tongue, and he feels the hot wet muscle roaming around inside, skimming across his teeth and gums. He moans helplessly, opening his lips further to give Valjean more access and leans in as far as he can possibly go, certain that bruises must be forming on the back of Valjean’s head. 

Valjean chews gently on his lower lip, nibbling it between his teeth before licking away the small trickle of blood. Javert feels as though he should be protesting the injury, caused by a convict no less, and yet it only makes his blood burn hotter. He kisses Valjean like the key to immortality is in the other man’s mouth. Valjean pulls away to gasp for air, lips bright red, pupils darker than black holes, and Javert shivers with the knowledge that he must look the same. 

He takes advantage of Valjean’s momentary pause for breath and tacks his lips to the other man’s neck, nipping and sucking deep marks into the skin. He trails his lips upwards to take his earlobe into his mouth, dipping his tongue behind and slightly inside. Valjean’s thighs tense and his knees draw up to grip Javert’s waist between them, whilst he shakes under Javert’s attentions.

Their hips grind relentlessly into each other, fuelled by a storm of blazing fires which light their bodies from the inside out. The pressure in his lower half is building fast; it only makes him hump down more erratically. He hears Valjean breathlessly beg to be released from the handcuffs, but whilst he craves the touch of hands upon his body, he finds himself too lost in desperation to stop and find the keys. His hands instead fist in Valjean’s collar to pull their lips back together, and he is very nearly dislodged from his position by the power of Valjean’s upwards thrust.

Unintentionally, the image of himself more securely seated upon Valjean, the other’s cock buried deeply inside his own arse, floods his mind, and he almost comes there in his pants from the fierce rush of arousal it produces. With that concern, he fumbles with his trousers, wrestling with the mechanical and magnetic clasps whilst still unable to cease the insistent movement of his hips. 

He manages eventually to shove his trousers and pants down in one go, cool air caressing his unveiled cock teasingly. He’s not sure he’s ever seen his own arousal so erect before. He hears a low, pained moan and sees Valjean staring at his privates with something like worship twisted with fiery lust. He rubs his hips down hard against Valjean’s still trapped groin, the rough friction shooting sparks up his nervous system with unrivalled intensity.

The fugitive whines at his continued entrapment, jerking his hips beseechingly, but it only drives Javert closer to the edge, and he can do nothing but cling his hands upon Valjean’s shoulders for balance as the scratchy material strokes agonisingly over his naked cock. It is too much; Javert comes suddenly, orgasm crashing through like a star had exploded inside of him, he mewls feebly as Valjean continues to move, and his come splatters over both of their clothed chests.

He feels Valjean’s wide, hungry eyes searing into his face and he bites into the junction of the man’s neck and shoulders to escape the gaze. And then Valjean is shuddering beneath him like an earthquake, groaning loudly as he too jerks with the force of his release. His cum soaks through his trousers steadily, leaving an obscenely placed wet patch. 

…

The orgasm had barrelled through him like nothing he’d ever felt before. His cells felt rearranged, his brains felt scrambled, and his nerves hummed with residual pleasure despite the sticky liquid slowly cooling in his pants. The body on top of him was lax and prone, limbs occasionally twitching and flexing unconsciously.

Valjean's hands and wrists, however, were completely numb, they could be broken for all he knew. He nudged Javert’s still form with his knee, and pressed his mouth on top of his hair to get the Commander’s attention. Javert groaned groggily like he’d just woken up, and huffed into Valjean’s neck at the disturbance. Valjean told himself it wasn’t cute. 

‘Javert’ He implored, ‘I can’t feel my hands.’

He heard a low, muffled mumble which sounded rather like ‘not my problem’, so he jabbed his knee harshly into Javert’s sensitive groin. The other man yelped, sitting bolt upright, before scowling darkly at his attacker. 

‘Please, just take them off for a few seconds, I won’t run away, I promise.’  
‘Like how you ran away the last time I turned by my back on you? I don’t think so.’ he spat.  
‘Please! I think my hands are broken!’

This time javert merely looked disgusted, and pushed himself up to stand, hauling Valjean stumbling with him. Javert was about to march out of the jungle with his captive prisoner, when he realised that his pants and trousers were still rumpled around his ankles, and with them also, was his laser, still nestled in a trouser leg pocket. 

Javert made to duck down quickly and yank his clothes back on, but Valjean saw the movement coming, and just as swiftly shoved his weight into Javert’s vulnerable, bent-over figure, to send both of them tumbling back down towards the ground. Javert fell flat on his front, having only managed to pull up his underwear whilst his trousers remained around his ankles, and Valjean sat on his back firmly, pinning the Commander in place. 

Javert’s hands grappled around to reach for his gun but Valjean snatched it away and shoved it down his own trouser pockets. Javert fumed. He supposed he should feel lucky that he’d managed to witness his pursuer in such throws of passion, he certainly wouldn’t be allowed to see the stern man like that again. 

‘I won’t let you up until you tell me where the keys to the handcuffs are’, he stated matter of factly.  
‘You’d have to shoot me first!’  
‘I’m not going to do that.’  
‘And I’m not giving you the keys!’

Valjean growled irritably. He couldn’t very well search for the keys without his hands mobile, and it was starting to look like they would be stuck here forever on this planet; both of them were too stubborn to give in without a fight. He had no doubt the Commander would rather die of thirst or starvation, than give Valjean the keys in sound mind. Currently, the man was repeatedly pushing up from the floor with his hands, only to be roughly kneed back down to the floor by Valjean. He had to admit, some twisted part of him got satisfaction out of Javert’s futile struggle. The man was now completely spent of strength, and could only wriggle in vain underneath Valjean’s weight. 

The feeling was starting to flood back into his battered hands, however, and he was relieved to flex them and feel pins and needles, but none of the acute pain of broken bones. But then, to his horror, he felt a familiar itch and tingle go running across his skin. He sat motionless in dread and confusion and exasperation, as the feeling spread like a plague, a simmering heat blooming in its wake. 

The body beneath him had seized up as well, and he knew that Javert felt the return of the poison’s curse too. An idea clicked: he had seen how pliant Javert had become under the chemical’s influence…maybe he could be persuaded to hand him the keys then? It was worth a try. He almost felt bad for taking advantage of such vulnerability, but what other choice did he have?

He started to nip the skin on the back of the Commander’s neck, and licked and bit in the ways that Javert had done to him, in the ways that he knew felt like bliss. Javert snarled at first, thrashing his head side to side to avoid Valjean’s mouth. But Valjean persisted, and started to grind his hardening cock into Javert’s backside, consequently forcing Javert’s own thinly protected dick to rub into the ground.

Javert’s grunts of frustration were quickly overtaken by ones of desire, and yet, his impressive resolve kept his limbs kicking out in resistance. Frowning, Valjean scooted down the other’s body to pin Javert’s flailing legs, and began trying to tug down Javert’s underwear with his teeth. It was ungraceful, and slow, but after a few faulty attempts, he finally bared Javert’s rear to the air. 

The Commander started, and his breathing hitched nervously as he felt warm breath panting over his bare arse. Valjean couldn’t deny that the vulnerable sight below him pleased him, and stirred up his own lust provokingly. He took a moment to gaze hungrily whilst Javert shivered, before lowering down his head to face the firm, tensing flesh.

He began with little bites upon the area where Javert’s thighs met his arse, revelling in the accidental whines Javert let go in-between his puffing. He took his time nibbling up towards the pink, clenching hole, building up his own courage as well as wanting to tease the man pinned below. He licked tentatively at the hole, not really knowing what he was doing, but driven to continue by the burning of his groin. 

He kept going steadily, saliva dripping off his tongue and aiding the slick slide of his tongue across Javert’s entrance. The taller man was squirming now, seemingly switching between shying away from the hot mouth, and pressing up further for more of the pleasurable contact. Feeling braver, Valjean took a breath before plunging his tongue inside the hole. Javert yelped and his hips bumped up to meet the pressure. 

It was deliciously hot and soft inside of Javert, and Valjean’s insides quivered to imagine what his dick might feel like inside that tight opening. Javert’s head was buried into his arms, muffling the faint whimpers tearing out from him, as he surrendered to the pleasure. Valjean felt a greedy urge to hear Javert scream. He quickened the thrusts of his tongue, curling the tip of it tauntingly, repeating whatever made Javert’s thighs quake. 

He didn’t relent, even as his tongue grew fatigued with the effort, until finally, Javert lifted his head and begged for mercy.

‘Please’. His voice sounded dazed.  
‘Mmm.’ Valjean ignored him.

He smirked into Javert’s skin, aware that his tongue couldn’t reach ‘that’ place, which if hit would make Javert forget his own mind. In the mean time, he planned to drive the Commander a little insane.

‘Please!’  
Valjean scraped his teeth lightly over the rim of his hole.  
‘Valjean! Please, please!’ 

Valjean himself trembled to hear his name spoken so brokenly, the pleas rang in his ears like the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. He detached his lips from Javert’s arse, who whimpered from the loss, and shimmied up Javert’s body to lean in close by his head. 

‘Do you know how good you look, Javert?’ he whispered in the prone man’s ear, ‘I could fuck you right here on the dirty ground, shove my dick in your tight, hot hole.’

Valjean would be the first to admit that he had zero experience of dirty talk, but if Javert’s moans and whines where anything to go by, he wasn’t faring too badly. 

He dipped his head back down to resume his administrations, alternating between licking, sucking and murmuring soft promises.

‘Do you want to be fucked until you scream, Commander?’  
‘Ah…Shit…fuck, please, please, yes’ came the breathless reply  
‘Please, what?’  
‘Nnngghh’  
‘What do you want, Commander?’  
‘Please, just — fuck me!  
‘Then give me the keys’ he demanded, injecting as much authority into his voice as possible.

Javert groaned heavily, sounding pained like a wounded animal, but submitted at last to Valjean’s torment. He wriggled a hand down underneath his chest and slipped his shaking fingers into a side pocket, before pulling out the much sought after keys into his palm. Valjean reached for them eagerly, breaking open Javert’s clenched fist, which had formed in a last-ditch attempt to keep Valjean his prisoner. 

His aching wrists sung with the release as he slot the keys into the handcuffs and slid the heavy metal off.


	4. Well, fuck

Free at last. He should make a break for it whilst the Commander was still very much incapacitated. And yet...

His pursuer was certainly a sight to behold; his lean muscles rippling with quivers, arse raised up in the air entreatingly towards Valjean, his hole having turned pinkish and wet from Valjean’s tongue. Mumbled pleas were still dripping from his lips, and his legs were trying to yank apart but were denied by the restraint of his pulled down trousers and pants around his thighs

Valjean was beyond tempted; until this moment he had never felt such all-consuming attraction towards another being. His cock pulsed angrily within its confines, and he realised that he had a chance to cum somewhere other than inside his underwear this time.

Decision made, Valjean divested himself of his pants and crawled back over Javert’s sprawled form. He took advantage of his newly freed hands to thread them through Javert’s soaked locks, and tugged. He purred happily at Javert’s glazed eyes and battered lips, before lifting two fingers to his open mouth. Javert took his fingers in without complaint and drooled messily around the digits, sucking on them obscenely.

Valjean brought his wet fingers down swiftly before the spit dried away, and plunged a finger inside whilst Javert made an odd gasping sound. The warm heat hugged his finger closely, and Valjean set to work opening up the hole for the other finger. Javert jerked his hips backwards onto his hand, trying to get the fingers deeper inside. His range of movement was limited however, due to his position on the ground, so Valjean scooped a muscled arm underneath Javert’s stomach and drew him up onto his hands and knees. He kept that arm there in place so that the Commander’s buckling knees wouldn’t send him tumbling towards the floor again. 

He pushed the second finger in gently, trying his best not to hurt the taller man, despite his impulses to just thrust in and take him as roughly as he wanted. He scissored his two digits deftly, moving them quickly in and out, and then felt his fingertips brush a firm bump. Javert jolted and sucked in a harsh breath, so he pressed down on the bump harder.

Javert yelled and scrabbled his hands across the floor, his usually pristine fingernails filling up with muck.

‘Shit…come on, Valjean!’  
‘Shhh, I’m getting you ready.’  
‘I don’t need you to get me ready, I need you in me!’

Valjean groaned and sunk his head into Javert’s neck. How could any man resist that? He shimmied out of his pants and stroked his heavy, leaking cock a couple of times, before lining himself up with Javert’s entrance. He pushed in all at once with one firm thrust of his hips. Both men gasped simultaneously, and Valjean thought his brains might just burst out of his skull from the euphoric, hot tightness smothering his length. 

… 

‘M-mmove’, Javert panted out, his abdomen fluttering underneath Valjean’s supporting hand. And the convict did, at last, slam into him with wild abandon, hips pumping ferociously in and out of his arse. The friction was almost unbearable. With only his own saliva to aid Valjean’s penetration, the walls of his arse burnt tremendously, and he had to collapse onto his elbows to stabilise himself from the dizzying impact of Valjean’s thrusts. 

The man above him kept murmuring babbled, nonsensical words of praise by his ear, whilst his hole stretched to its limits, gaping to take in the enormous rock-hard length. He boggled to think of the picture he must make, bent over like an obedient mutt in the jungle, moaning wantonly, as a man who should be in chains fucked into the deepest, most sensitive and untouched areas of his body. He felt so full it was like Valjean had thrusted up all the way into his lungs and forced out his breath. 

He met each of Valjean’s thrusts with humps of his own, driving his rear backwards onto his thick prick, and begging Valjean to go deeper, harder, quicker…wanting more than anything for the man to hit that spot inside him again which made his eyes roll backwards deliriously. His own cock bobbed about uselessly underneath him, fiercely purple and weeping with precum, but he had not the strength left to lift a hand up to relieve himself. 

He sunk further down on his elbows towards the ground, tremors rustling through his arms, and Valjean’s next thrust rammed straight into his prostate.

He screamed. He was sure not even the most expensive, most illegal drugs found in the universe, could match the utter ecstasy of Valjean’s cock impaling into his tender flesh. 

Encouraged by his reaction, Valjean continued to relentlessly fuck into him, angling his hips to pound into that glorious spot inside of him on every thrust. And then, tormentingly, as if he wasn’t already shattering into tiny pieces, Valjean’s supporting hand came snaking up to his hard nipples, and begin twisting, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. He was sure tears were brimming in his screwed shut eyes by now, and leaving gross, streaky trails down his face.

The pressure in his cock was unthinkable. He vaguely wondered how Valjean had held himself back from coming for so long. Maybe he had voiced his woes out loud, because soon Valjean’s merciless hand released his sensitive, reddened nipples, and slid down to grasp Javert’s swollen cock into his fist.

He pumped his hand in perfect time with the hammering of his prick; his strokes were unforgivingly firm and quick, and the chafing of his hand was acute from the lack of spit and the worn surface of Valjean’s palm.

Javert’s breaths were soon coming out in wheezes, his helpless cries mutating into loud wails of bliss, his nerves were alight with a million wild fires as he was plundered towards a sticky oblivion. Valjean gave one last exceptionally brutal thrust and Javert was hurtling towards his release like a plummeting spacecraft. 

But then, just at the last, crucial second, Valjean’s fist tightened at the base of his cock, and he swore like a madman as his impending orgasm was abruptly snatched from him. Meanwhile, the body behind him jolted and shook violently, and what felt like eighty barrels of hot cum gushed into his arse, until Javert felt like a stuffed bird who’s arsehole was filled with molten lava. 

Javert sobbed.  
He was beyond furious.  
He was so painfully desperate.  
Valjean was the cruellest man he’d ever known.

The man in question slipped out easily from his backside, leaving the cum to slowly ooze from his loosened hole. Javert’s arms finally gave way and he flopped down to the ground like a rag doll, trapping his aching cock between himself and the floor. He thinks he hears Valjean laugh somewhere behind him - the bastard. 

He would not be left like this. Uncaring of the mud, twigs, dirt, and whatever else was festering on the ground, Javert gracelessly ground his pelvis down in jerky circles, scraping himself back to the edge of his orgasm. 

His tormenter was having none of it; two firm hands gripped his sides and flipped him inelegantly onto his back, before securely pinning both of his hands above his head. Javert wanted to scream his outrage, to lunge at the other man who thought that he could toy with him like he was a wingless bug. To his despair, however, he only managed to pathetically whimper and writhe in place: a sweaty, defenceless mess, bared naked to Valjean’s still ravenous eyes and lazy smirk. 

Javert wasn’t sure if he or the convict were even still under the chemical’s influence or not; Valjean himself looked far too satisfied and gleeful to be anything but sane. 

Just one of the convict’s hefty palms took over the task of restraining Javert, whilst the other wandered ever so slowly downwards, skimming over his marred skin, nipples and stomach. Seemingly tempted by Javert’s slackened mouth, Valjean moved closer to languidly kiss his captive. Javert attempted to bite at Valjean’s lips but the other simply nipped him back harder.

‘Be a good boy now, Commander’ he crooned, and to his utter embarrassment Javert only shivered at the belittling address.

A light finger trailed up the length of his cock along a prominent vein, and ran tantalisingly over the dripping slit. Javert felt he could explode on spot. The hand then swooped down to fondle his balls, squeezing them absentmindedly, uncaring of the way Javert sobbed for mercy. 

Valjean dipped his head to lick again at Javert abused hole, collecting his own cum on his tongue before diving back up to kiss Javert wetly. It was filthy, Javert thought brokenly, perhaps the floor of a forest was the most suitable place for such things after all. 

Suddenly, Valjean tugged Javert by the hair to sit up and pushed his face to look downwards, before roughly pressing a knee onto Javert’s throbbing groin.

That was all it took. Javert came with a howl, his head wanted to snap back with the colossal force of his pleasure, but was halted in place by Valjean’s hand. His cum shot out in fitful, white streams and splattered across the Commander’s face, whilst some landed into his still gaping mouth. His whole body convulsed and clenched unstoppably.

Once his spasms had died away and his limbs sagged bonelessly, Valjean tilted his head back using two fingers under his chin. Javert thought he might be kissed again, but the fugitive just pushed Javert’s open mouth closed, and made him swallow the cum that had found its way inside, staring hotly at him the whole time. 

He collapsed back onto his back with a thud. Valjean smiled innocently. 

‘Until next time, Commander.’

There would be a next time? he wondered blearily, disgustingly hopeful. 

Valjean stood up then, pulling up his trousers and pants, and tucking his softened cock away quietly. He crept away, and Javert thought he saw, in his peripheral vision, Valjean tinkering with his ship, pouring some kind of liquid inside, probably fuel…He was too fucked out to investigate, not that he could even move a limb in his current state. 

He must have blacked out for a while then, for the next moment he opened his eyes, he heard the tell-tail thundering of a starting ship fill the air. He glanced around him at the surrounding colourful trees and plants; it wasn’t so ugly here…

Javert watched mutely as a gleaming speck of metal twinkled in the pink sky, before vanishing completely above the clouds.

He sighed 

‘Well…fuck.’


End file.
